The Betrayed Read online

  Though the prince and seven of his friends were out of their cells, they were far from free. And at the moment, Thimeon had no clear plan for reaching freedom. The plans they had made were challenging enough for three. They couldn’t very well walk out the gate with the prince. Moving along with ten of them presented a whole new challenge.

  The next step, however, was clear: get past the guards in the two outer rooms—and do it without any commotion. He would have to explain the situation to the prince and his friends, for at present they were still in the dark.

  Thimeon gave them a moment to exchange hurried greetings. Six of the seven were officers of various ranks, all still in uniform, though their attire was as disheveled and dirty as the prince’s. The seventh was a duke— a big man, about forty years in age with black hair, a heavy curled moustache, broad burly shoulders, and sporting a broad smile. Though he had a day or two of unshaven scruff, he otherwise showed little sign of having been in prison.

  “So what is next?” the duke asked with a deep but almost cheery voice that belied their circumstance. “And whom may I thank for this honor of being released? I assume it’s not Koranth.” He looked in turn at Thimeon, Siyen, and Kayam. “I am Duke Armas at your disposal.”

  “We can make introductions later,” Dhan announced. “After we are out of this dank trap.” He turned to Thimeon. “What is the plan?”

  “There is only one set of stairs leading out of here, a chamber above that, and another chamber above that. Two guards in each.” Thimeon replied. He pulled off his apron, and added, “But you surely know this place better than I do,”

  “Two guards?” asked one of the older men. He had a sharp nose, eyes so dark brown they looked almost black, and bushy brown hair with a few strands of gray. “How did you get in?”

  “In disguise,” Thimeon replied, nodding toward Siyen and Kayam, who still wore their aprons. “We have taken care of the two guards here.” He turned to Kayam. “They are now tied and bound in one of the cells?”

  “Like sheep before shearing,” Kayam replied.

  “So we have four guards to get past. And beyond them is a lot of castle and city still separating us from freedom. Between us we have only two swords.”

  “Four,” Kayam interjected. “And two spears also. We took them from the guards. Seemed like the right thing to do.” He turned around and picked them up off the floor and handed them one at a time to Dhan. The prince, in turn, gave the spears to two of the officers and one of the swords to the duke. He kept the other for himself.

  But the duke turned around and handed the sword off to the tallest of the officers—a young man with a dark face and rather nondescript features except for deep and piercing gray eyes. “This will do more good in Jhaban’s hands,” he said. He had a fierce smile. “There are six of us with weapons now. And only four guards, you say? If we rush in, or even call them down here, we’ll have no trouble taking care of them—”

  Thimeon was going to object, but the prince beat him to it. “No! We can’t risk a fight. If the guards in the outer room hear any clash of weapons down here, they’ll sound the alarm. Then all would be lost. Soldiers would be swarming all around us in less than a minute. Or they could just bolt us in from the outer door. We need to get to the hidden passageways and then out of the castle before anybody is wise to our disappearance.” He turned back to Thimeon. “Do you have a plan for that?”

  Thimeon frowned. “I don’t have one. I didn’t come back to Citadel to rescue you.”

  Dhan lifted his eyebrows. “To what do we owe our fortune?”

  Thimeon shook his head. “To the grace of the All-Maker. Or to my lack of wisdom. When we stumbled into that ancient treasure chamber during our escape several days ago, I discovered several old tomes containing histories of earlier wars with the Daegmons. Foolishly I left them behind. I’ve returned to search them out in hopes of gaining knowledge that might aid us in our war. Otherwise, I fear our cause is hopeless. The enemy is stronger than we even imagined.”

  “How did you plan on smuggling all those books out of the castle?” Armas asked. “For that matter, how were you going to get yourself out?”

  “We had two plans to escape from the palace. One was to go out the way we came in: down a rope from the castle wall, if we could return there while it was still dark. The other plan was simply to walk out the front gate. If I can get outside the walls of this palace, a merchant friend is ready to smuggle me out of the city.”

  The duke frowned. “And he’s probably expecting three of you, not eleven.”

  “Right,” Thimeon said with nod. “We had one other option, however: to escape the way we escaped several days ago. There is a secret underground tunnel leading out of the palace to the ledges about forty feet above the river west of the city. Dhan brought us there.”

  “You climbed down the cliffs and swam the river?” one of the officers asked with admiration.

  “Actually, we jumped down and then swam, but this time we wouldn’t need to do either. There will be a boat ready, and we have rope for climbing down. Of course, all that was based on there being only three of us. Also, I still want those books. In them, I think, lies our hope of finding a way to defeat the Daegmon—or Daegmons.”

  The duke whistled, and several of the other officers made similar expressions of surprise. “So the creature is real?” the duke asked. “And you’ve seen it?”

  Two of the officers nodded. “I tried to tell you it was real,” one said. He had an accent similar to Tienna’s and the darker skin of the Plainsfolk. “My family sent me a message. It attacked my tribe. Killed two of my cousins. That’s why I was thrown into the dungeon. Because I tried telling people about it, and asked the king for help.”

  “It is real,” Thimeon said in a solemn voice. “I have seen it and fought it. I will tell you more later, when we get out of here. But first we must find our way past the guards and to the hidden passages. If we can do that, I hope we can get to the treasure chamber, and then find our way out of here. The longer we wait, the harder it will get.”

  The prince shook his head sadly. “Well, I’m afraid you’ve got doubly bad luck then. The ancient tomes are no longer there. After your escape, Koranth found the room and plundered the treasure—without my father’s knowledge, I might add, not that it mattered. Everything of value he carried off someplace to hoard or to use to bribe others to follow him. As for the books, I guess they were destroyed.”

  “Destroyed?” Thimeon cried in dismay. His stomach knotted up.

  “Yes,” Dhan replied. “Wind of that reached me just before I was arrested.”

  Thimeon’s head fell to his chest, and he buried his face in his hands. His entire reason for coming to Citadel was gone.

  The duke must have guessed his thoughts. “It may be that you have failed in that mission, but I hope you won’t consider your journey a waste. I, for one, will be eternally grateful to you if we get out of this place.”

  Thimeon lifted his head, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Yes. Perhaps I was brought here for some purpose other than my own. If I can help you, then my efforts were not wasted.” He thought for a moment. “It might be good to split up. It is still dark enough for some of us to leave the way we came in. The others might escape by the river as we did before. A few could even wait in hiding and come out another day.”

  “No need,” the duke said. “The prince and I are the only ones who need to sneak out. The officers can just walk out the front gates. Their arrests were all secret. That’s one thing Koranth did in our favor.”

  At this, several of them raised their eyebrows. “It might work,” one of them said with excitement. “If the prince and duke can get out of the city with your merchant friend, we can all meet later this evening at the Bear Tavern five miles east along the trade road toward Kreana.”

  “First we need to get past four guards,” one of the offi
cers said. Along with a soft voice and light hair, he had high cheekbones that made Thimeon think of Tienna. “Everything else depends on that.”

  “Leave that to me,” Kayam said. He grabbed Siyen and pulled her toward the door. She pulled out of his grasp and glared at him for a moment, her face white with either fear or anger. “Trust me,” the old guard said. Siyen glared a second longer, but then followed. Still wearing their aprons, they stepped through the door and started up the stairs.

  They had been gone about twenty seconds before Dhan spoke. “Isn’t she the one who was with you before? The one we lost during your escape?”

  Thimeon nodded. The one who abandoned us, he thought. Yet for some reason, for all the fears he had about escaping, he was not afraid that Siyen or Kayam would betray him.

  The prince, however, looked troubled. He walked over the door and put his ear to it. Nothing was audible through the heavy oak. “What do you know about Kayam?” he asked next. Again Thimeon shook his head. The others looked troubled also. Dhan took his ear from the door and looked right at Thimeon. “She didn’t come here to help you or to help me. She came back to steal treasure. I could read it in her eyes.”

  “It is true,” Thimeon acknowledged. “I knew her purpose, but I needed her help.” He wanted to say more, to tell the prince he could trust her. But he realized he had no real reason to believe that.

  “Then we may be betrayed,” the prince warned. “Be ready.” He motioned the others to stay out of sight. Then he opened the door an inch and looked out. Thimeon was beside him. Through the crack they could see Siyen and Kayam at the top of the long stairs, talking with a guard and pointing back toward the dungeon as if warning them about something. The guard nodded. He motioned for Kayam to leave, then started down the stairs.

  “Close the door,” Thimeon whispered.

  “No,” Dhan replied. “If they lock us in, we’re lost. Get ready to rush out.”

  The footsteps approached. Dhan drew his sword and pressed himself back against the wall, out of sight of the grating. Thimeon stood just in front of the door, holding the handle to keep them from closing it. An instant later the door was flung open from the other side, knocking Thimeon over backward. In jumped two guards with grins.

  “Eating on the job again—?” one of them started to ask. The question died on his lips when he saw the prince and the other escaped prisoners standing around him. Their hands flew to their weapons, but they were too late. Four of the escaping officers took them down before they could even get their swords free of the sheaths. They were gagged and tied, then tossed into one of the empty cells. Two more escapees gained swords.

  “Four down, two to go,” said Kayam, who stood at the door. Siyen was a step behind him, still frowning.

  Seeing that Kayam had proved loyal after all, Thimeon breathed a quick sigh of relief. But he knew they had a long way to go. He led the way up the stairs alongside the prince, and soon they all stood in the next chamber. One more set of stairs, he thought, and they would be in the hall near the kitchen. This would be the tough one. One of the guards at the top stood ready at all times within reach of the rope hanging from the alarm bell. In the room one floor above, a host of guards was ready to respond.

  “We could try the same thing,” Kayam suggested. “It worked once.”

  Dhan nodded, and Kayam and Siyen disappeared again. The others pressed themselves against the wall so they could not be seen by anybody coming down the stairs. If the trick worked just one more time, then they could make it into the kitchen and disappear.

  Thimeon listened closely to the departing footsteps. Then came the faint echo of Kayam’s voice. He didn’t catch all the words but heard enough to get the gist of the ruse: the guards down in the room below were eating the food he was supposed to have brought to the prisoners. The story had its desired effect. There followed some heavy cursing. Then silence.

  Then footsteps started down the stairs. Thimeon held the door open an inch and watched through the crack. To his dismay, this time it did not work as planned. Only one guard came. Thimeon motioned to Dhan, first pointing toward the door and then lifting a single finger to indicate the lone soldier. Dhan frowned. “Quick and quiet,” he whispered as he tightened the grip on his sword. They waited for the door to open, but the steps stopped at the threshold.

  “Hello?” came a voice. Nobody answered. The prince put his finger to his lip. Again came the voice through the heavy door. “Bram? You there?” Still no answer. From the other side of the door came the faint shush of metal against leather as a blade slid free of a sheath. The door inched open as a hand gripped the huge metal loop on the other side and pressed.

  In a single quick motion, Thimeon grabbed the door and yanked it open. The hand on the other end held its grip on the handle just long enough to be pulled into the room. Dhan grabbed the arm and yanked hard. A guard flew into the room, wielding a blade, and despite his surprise, he was able to bring it up as he was spun forward. But Thimeon, from the other side, lunged and grabbed the arm before the guard could deliver a blow. Three more bodies crashed down upon the guard, knocking him to the floor and sending his sword flying. Several hands clasped roughly over his mouth. It was enough to silence him, but not before he let out a warning shout. An instant later came the sound Thimeon had dreaded: the ringing of the signal bells.

  19

  FUGITIVES

  Thimeon’s eyes met the prince’s, and for one instant they looked at one another in horror. The alarm bell rang three times, then stopped. They all sprang into action. Several of the officers raced up the stairs. Thimeon remained below for one extra minute, and with the duke’s help gagged the guard and tied his hands and feet. Thimeon and the duke then hurried up the stairs after the others to find another guard lying on the floor beside the alarm rope in a growing pool of blood with Kayam’s sword still stuck in his side.

  But Thimeon had no time to worry about the dying soldier or grieve the violence. His heart was pounding, and he was on the edge of panic. His plan had failed. The castle was alerted.

  “So I think we need a new plan,” the duke said. The others looked between their three rescuers. Kayam stood looking down at the dying guard, frowning. “He wasn’t a bad man,” he muttered.

  Siyen was white. “What do we do now?” she asked. “We never should have tried this.”

  Thimeon was also at a loss. He had failed the prince. He had failed his former company. But Prince Dhan did not show any signs of giving up. “We’ve got about one minute,” he said. He turned to one of the officers and spoke rapidly. “Terrid, my friend. It may be those coming won’t know you were a prisoner, but it will be a risk. Are you willing to stay to divert the soldiers?”

  Thimeon looked closely at Terrid for the first time. He looked like a young Westwasher, no more than twenty-one years of age. He had curly brown hair and friendly eyes, and however long he had been locked up, he had no beard to show for it.

  “I’ll do my best, Lord Prince,” The one named Terrid repied. “It’s an honor to serve you again.”

  Dhan clasped Terrid’s shoulder. “Pretend you’ve just discovered my escape. Send them to the front gate to find me.” Terrid spun to leave.

  “I’ll stay with him,” another called out as Dhan started toward the door. It was the one with the sharp nose and bushy hair. Another Westwasher, Thimeon thought. “I’ll make sure whoever comes takes orders from me. And if they don’t, we’ll ensure there are fewer of them to follow you.”

  “I’m indebted to you also, Llatru. Don’t kill unless you have to,” Dhan said.

  At that instant Thimeon heard the echoes of footsteps coming from the side door. His own heart seemed to be pounding as loud as the approaching steps. “We’ve got to go,” he urged.

  “Come,” the prince called, and he charged out the door away from the approaching soldiers.

  Thimeon bolted after him and the res
t of the group sprinted behind. The prince stopped and let Thimeon catch him. “You know the nearest entrance to the passageway. The one in the kitchen. I don’t know that one. Lead the way.”

  Thimeon nodded. He fought his rising despair. He imagined guards, somewhere behind him, racing into the outer room above the dungeons, but he could hear nothing over the sounds of their own footsteps. The kitchen was not far, he told himself. They could make it.

  With the prince beside him, Kayam and Siyen behind them, and the duke and four remaining officers sprinting after him, he hurried along the halls, backtracking his steps from half an hour earlier.

  A minute later, Thimeon burst into the kitchen, slamming the door back with a loud bang. To his dismay, the room was crowded again with cooks and servants. Everybody in the room spun around at his sudden intrusion, and they stared at him and the prince. He realized he still held his sword in his hand. His hope of a secret escape was gone. Worse, there was no sign of the head baker. Then Kayam charged in, his blade covered in blood. Looks of surprise and fear turned to horror. One woman screamed, and others turned pale.

  Thimeon’s thoughts raced. He shouted the first thing that popped into his mind. “Run! There’s been a murder in the dungeon. The murderer is loose.”

  His shout had the desired effect. There was a moment of stunned silence, then servants and cooks alike dropped what they were holding and ran for the opposite door in a wild panic, pushing and shoving and slipping. In seconds the castle staff had vacated the room—all except the head baker, who had been standing in the corner the whole time. He ran a few steps out of the room, urging the others on, then turned and came back in. While the kitchen staff had fled, the rest of the escaping prisoners had all piled into the room.